


Rematch

by seungshibari



Series: Playmaker [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Ballsucking, Crying, Hair Brushing, Hair Kink, Hairjobs, Hand Jobs, Locker Room, M/M, Masturbation, Pseudo-Incest, Roughness, Shower Sex, Smeared Makeup, Teabagging, Threesome - M/M/M, Verbal Humiliation, Writing on the Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25720186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seungshibari/pseuds/seungshibari
Summary: Hyunjin’s chest sunk into a sigh as Minho dropped the brush and brought both of his hands around his stepbrother's slim waist, squeezing it and nuzzling into his shoulder. Making his voice impossibly small, Minho produced a tight, dark little compliment: “You smell so good.” It sounded like‘I want to fuck you’.“It’s Cartier,” Hyunjin bragged, shivering as his brother swept his hair away from the nape of his neck to inhale the expensive cologne. “Do you like it?”“I like everything about you, Hyunjin,” Minho drawled, the words trickling down Hyunjin’s chest and turning his nerves nuclear. Acutely aware of his breathing now, Hyunjin heard himself gasp when Minho began to feel him up properly. Chilly hands on Hyunjin’s torso. Minho plucked his fingers on the bony harp of his stepbrother’s ribs. Hyunjin panted and it was all liquid. “We should go,” he whispered to Hyunjin, concluding the song.“Ugh, why?”Withdrawing his arms, Minho offered a curt response: “Chan wants you.”
Relationships: Bang Chan/Hwang Hyunjin, Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: Playmaker [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846546
Comments: 8
Kudos: 146





	Rematch

**Author's Note:**

> read the tags! as a reminder, in this series, hyunjin and minho are portrayed as stepbrothers who interact romantically/sexually. 
> 
> I DO NOT give permission for this fic or portions of this fic to be REPRODUCED or REUPLOADED without my express consent.

Loneliness was a great, hulking figure that followed Hyunjin through his adolescence and into adulthood. There were casualties associated with not knowing himself - anonymous sex and STD scares and drive-through coffee. Morning-after’s that stretched on until dusk, hallmarked by the discomfort of waddling to the bus stop in his silky, wrinkled button-up. 

And a pool of quicksand in his hollow stomach, an empty anxiety that churned between his peaking hip bones. It wasn’t shame, though, he didn’t feel that. Maybe he was too tired for it, or too good for it. Too proud - too _scared_ \- to invite it in. 

Hyunjin had yet to forgive the people he became to get laid. 

Moral vacancy and raunch turned guys on, so that was what Hyunjin clung to. 

He’d take inventory of himself based on absence: I don’t know this, I don’t have this, I am not this. Holes to be filled. The only constant presence was Minho and the many versions of him that splintered out into Hyunjin’s life; Minho in the daytime, whose heavy duffel he carried to practice, Minho in the nighttime, whose sweaty ass he ate when they got home from the rink. 

There is a difference between love and appreciation, and Minho’s feelings for Hyunjin oscillated from hour-to-hour. Hyunjin’s drunken “performance” in front of the team had placed him somewhere in Minho’s good graces. 

And Hyunjin would have to do more to remain in those good graces. 

“Baby,” Minho shouted from their sunken mattress, “Chan just texted you!” His stepbrother’s cheery tone was unnerving. Hyunjin had never given his phone number to Chan. Maybe he’d done it while he was drunk, or maybe Minho had said ‘fuck it’ to Hyunjin’s privacy. Either option was fine, Hyunjin knew he’d have to get personal with Chan soon enough. Minho was just making things more streamlined for every party involved. How considerate. 

Continuing to apply layer after layer of overpriced mascara to his lashes, Hyunjin remained quiet and focused, eyeing himself in the mirror. He was so pretty. 

“I said, Chan just texted you!” Hyunjin nearly poked his cornea out with the mascara wand, an unsightly smudge of black smearing itself across his eyelid. 

Hyunjin sighed. He just wanted to look pretty for practice. “Give me a second!” He was typically very accommodating to his brother, dropping to his knees when asked, burrowing his nose in Minho’s pubes beneath his desk, or sucking the sweat from his worn socks. Being interrupted during his grooming process was unacceptable, though. Did his brother want the bait to be _ugly_? 

Using his thumb to wipe away the excess mascara, Hyunjin huffed and stalked back to the bedroom. “What is it?” He tried to channel a sweet and birdlike tone, but his words came out in an irritated squawk. He just couldn’t stand being pulled away from his routine. Some people might call Hyunjin dumb or shallow for wearing makeup to hockey practice, but he knew those same people would jump at the chance to fuck his brains out. Hyunjin thought they ought to pick a side. He knew what they’d choose. 

“Let me brush your hair,” Minho offered, patting the space next to him on the comforter. He’d pulled out a thick-bristle hairbrush from the bedside table. Hyunjin tried to grab his phone from Minho, but his stepbrother just shoved it in his pocket with a sardonic grin. “You don’t need to read what Chan sent, I already read it. Sit. Let me brush.” 

Hyunjin sunk into the bed. He allowed his brother to gently run the brush through his satiny hair. There was love in this repetition, Hyunjin was sure of it, love in the soft, grounding pull against his scalp. Hyunjin was tranquilized. The twitching fingers of Minho’s free hand crawled into Hyunjin’s lap and swept over his thighs, stopping only to squeeze at the fleshiest parts on his brother’s body. 

Hyunjin’s chest sunk into a sigh as Minho dropped the brush and brought both of his hands around Hyunjin’s slim waist, squeezing it and nuzzling into his shoulder. Making his voice impossibly small, Minho produced a tight, dark little compliment: “You smell so good.” 

It sounded like ' _I want to fuck you’_. 

“It’s Cartier,” Hyunjin bragged, shivering as his brother swept his hair away from the nape of his neck to inhale the expensive cologne. “Do you like it?” 

“I like everything about you, Hyunjin,” Minho drawled, the words trickling down Hyunjin’s chest and turning his nerves nuclear. Acutely aware of his breathing now, Hyunjin heard himself gasp when Minho began to feel him up properly. Chilly hands on Hyunjin’s torso. 

Minho plucked his fingers on the bony harp of his stepbrother’s ribs. Hyunjin panted and it was all liquid. “We should go,” he whispered to Hyunjin, concluding the song. 

“Ugh, why?” 

Withdrawing his arms, Minho offered a curt response: “Chan wants you.” 

“And I want to see you with him.” That sweetened the deal significantly. Nothing compared to getting _fucked_ in front of his brother. Whenever he watched, Minho looked hot-blooded and high. His eyes went glassy when someone else’s thick cock was pistoning in and out of Hyunjin’s pert ass. It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more potent, something Minho would _act on_ later, in the form of a rough kiss, a bite to the clavicle, a slap to the face. 

“Take me, then. Take me to him.” A willing sacrifice, Hyunjin didn’t mind being taken. 

* * *

Widening his eyes dollishly, Hyunjin opened his mouth and waited patiently for Chan to shove his cock inside. Chan only laughed and grabbed a haphazard handful of Hyunjin’s glossy hair. “Nah, I could get anybody to suck my cock. I wanna try something different with you.” Hyunjin nodded in acceptance, feeling a few strands of his hair fall to the floor of the locker room as a result of Chan’s firm grip on his scalp. 

Chan maneuvered Hyunjin down the length of his cock and settled him beneath his balls. Hyunjin obediently took one into his mouth, figuring that was all Chan expected of him. Maybe he was one of those guys who thought that ballsucking was the pinnacle of freakiness. The routine soreness that Hyunjin associated with dropping to his knees had finally settled in, and he sighed as he began to kiss at Chan’s hairy sack. 

He was pulled from his trance when Chan tightly wrapped what he could still reach of Hyunjin’s hair around his shaft. Hyunjin squeaked. He felt his roots straining, but he refused to fully remove his lips from Chan’s balls. 

Minho looked on, appearing a little impressed with Chan for inventing an act that was so tailor-made to exploit Hyunjin’s insecurities. It was common knowledge that Hyunjin took an overwhelming amount of pride in his appearance. He deep-conditioned his buttery blond hair weekly and he straightened it every other day. It was his precious crown and Chan was using it to jerk off with, tangling it around his ugly, veiny cock. 

“You don’t wanna use his mouth?” From Minho’s perspective, Chan’s unorthodox choice was amusing, but it always hurt Hyunjin’s feelings when people decided against fucking his face. He went into this expecting Chan to batter his throat and scatter tired insults above his bobbing head: ‘dirty slut’, ‘filthy bitch’, the typical assortment of overused porn quotes. 

“I _am_ using his mouth,” Chan grunted, “sorta.” Chan’s balls were smashed into Hyunjin’s face, barely touching the perimeter of his full lips. He pulled Hyunjin’s soft hair a little tighter around his shaft. Each stroke of his cock resulted in a sharp tug for Hyunjin. It was clear that Chan was simply using him as a visual aide. Hyunjin squealed again. He swore he felt precum seep into his scalp. 

It was an exercise in humility. 

“Wait, wait, turn around. I don’t wanna see your face.” 

Hyunjin sighed as Chan released him, relishing the momentary relief in tension. He unquestioningly faced away, guessing that Chan would knock him to the locker room floor, place a big foot on his pretty head, and split him in two. Instead, he wrapped Hyunjin’s hair in a tight loop around his dick and began to _fuck it_ , Hyunjin’s neck spasming and cracking. 

“What the fuck,” Hyunjin choked out, feeling Chan’s cock rub against his head. 

“You like that, Hyunjin?” Minho chuckled at Chan’s rhetorical question, inching closer to see the animal gleam in Hyunjin’s eyes. Now wasn’t the time to be a rebel. Carefully lowering himself to his brother’s level, he watched the glossy tip of Chan’s cock disappear into Hyunjin’s hair, the now-matted strands tickling his slit. Hyunjin was indignant, his scowl deepening as the weight of Chan’s cock settled on his head at the top of his stroke, right at Hyunjin’s middle part. A drop of precum dripped from above and landed slickly against Hyunjin’s forehead. He winced. 

Minho smiled. “Don’t frown so hard, Hyunjin, you’ll get wrinkles.”   
  
He indulged in one last disgusted glare - how _dare_ Chan make him look so cheap in front of Minho - and then he let his face go neutral. When Chan finally settled into a predictable rhythm, routinely thrusting his cock through the tight loop of Hyunjin’s hair, he was able to relax. Minho offered his brother a consolatory smile. “You’re so hot,” he said quietly, and it hit like an anesthetic. Their attraction wasn’t a secret, but this hushed praise was, hidden and shared beneath Chan’s grating moans. 

“Don’t cum yet,” Minho ordered, refusing to look away from Hyunjin. Hyunjin didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath. He liked when Minho had plans and expectations for how things would go. Minho would see what he wanted to, because Minho was the director. 

Chan unquestioningly untangled his cock from Hyunjin’s disheveled hair. 

“I know you said you don’t want to see his face, but have him finish you off himself,” Minho suggested to Chan, “he’s got to do _some_ work. Don’t let him be lazy.” Hyunjin swiftly rotated on his knees and brought his lips to Chan’s cockhead, prepared to bring this endless, hellish task to an end. “No, don’t take the easy way out, Hyunjin,” Minho chided. 

Oh. Hyunjin got it now. He was supposed to take the initiative and play into Chan’s fantasy. He took a deep breath and cringed as he allowed a layer of his hair to fall against Chan’s shaft. Securing it with his hand, he began to jerk Chan off, watching his hair become increasingly knotted as he rubbed it into Chan’s cock. 

Minho approached, silent, now, and bold, positioning himself behind Hyunjin and watching Chan’s precum ooze onto his stepbrother’s strands. “He hates getting things in his hair,” Minho observed, “but maybe he’ll make an exception for you.” 

“Maybe,” Chan grunted smugly, “you want a turn?” 

“I get turns every night.” It wasn’t a brag, it was the voiced equivalent of a shrug. 

“So, like, the leftovers?” Hyunjin frowned at Chan’s judgement, but didn’t stop jerking him off. It was an objectifying statement, especially coming from someone as jovially chauvinistic as their team captain. Minho held back a laugh. Hyunjin moaned. It was embarrassing - and devastatingly _hot_ \- to be degraded so openly. It was _hot_ for his stepbrother to coax another man into fulfilling their collaborative desire for Hyunjin to be _mortified_. 

Hyunjin looked up from the cock he was working at to see that Chan had smashed his lips into his Minho’s. Or maybe it was vice versa. _My brother kisses me like that_. The complex knot of envy in Hyunjin’s belly folded in on itself. 

Minho’s dick was rubbing at the base of Hyunjin’s skull, drooling precum. The strain of pulling his own hair sparked tears in Hyunjin’s marbled eyes. His mascara would start running soon. The sloppy sounds of Chan eating Minho’s lips were overwhelming, incessant, and humid. A little string of saliva snapped and descended onto the top of Hyunjin’s head, evidence of the messy kissing that he was missing out on. All Hyunjin could do was stare at Chan’s toned abs while his step brother occupied someone else’s mouth. 

Hyunjin spitefully jerked Chan off faster, one phrase reduplicating in his head - _not fair. Not fair. Not fair_. Minho’s spit was meant for Hyunjin. Minho was meant for Hyunjin. Made for him, even. As a consequence of the quick pace, the tension on Hyunjin’s hair had increased monumentally. He was crying now. It felt sort of liberating. 

Minho picked up on this right away, separating from Chan to place a soft, reassuring hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Are you good, Hyunjin?” 

“Yes,” he breathed, “this is good. But _I_ want to kiss you.”

It was a selfish, nasal little whine. Greedy. 

“Soon,” Minho soothed, reaching around Hyunjin’s head to smudge his makeup around, his mascara crusting and clumping. 

Above him, Minho had begun to jerk off, too, holding his brother’s head steady so he’d have a static target for his cumshot. Chan was first, shooting his load directly into Hyunjin’s hair, coating it in a glaze of cum. 

Hyunjin couldn’t help himself, he gave a dry retch and a panicked look, and then Minho was next, strings of thick cum drooling down the sides of Hyunjin’s head and deep into his knotted locks. His jaw dropped as he felt the sticky substance begin to dry to a film. “Fuck, ew,” he whimpered, uncomfortably damp. 

Chan grinned wolfishly. “Wait, I’m not done.” 

“Me neither,” Minho shot back, “give me a second.” And Hyunjin felt Minho walk away. An absence. Chan cleared his throat and hocked a wad of phlegm on top of the streamers of opalescent cum that his stepbrother and his team captain had both left all over his hair. Hyunjin’s jaw dropped in irritation. It would take minutes to wash it all out, but _weeks_ to remove it from his head.

“Chan. Go ahead. Complete the look.” Minho returned with a thick black marker and handed it to Chan. The two of them were breathing in unison after their synchronous orgasm, a little tired, a little gleeful. Hyunjin was devastated that Chan got to share something with Hyunjin besides his own body. With an immature smile, Chan uncapped the Sharpie and scrawled a word across Hyunjin’s sweaty forehead. Minho squinted to read. “Chan, you spelled it wrong.” 

“Oh? For real?” Chan’s curious voice fractured into a stupid cackle. Hyunjin wanted to decapitate him. Scrambling to his feet, Hyunjin jogged to the ancient locker room mirror to view his properly humbled self. He pushed his sweaty fringe back to examine the label that Chan had chosen for him. 

_H O R E._ Was he going for “whore” or “hole”? 

Two sticky loads soaking into his cherished hair, a misspelled insult splayed across his handsome face in angry permanent marker. A trashy billboard. Flakes of mascara littered the soft skin of his cheeks. He was so fucking _hard_. Harder than he’d ever been. 

Minho had followed him to the mirror, Chan close behind, distracted by his phone. “Oh, dude, you’re right. The dictionary says I got it wrong,” Chan offered nonchalantly, wiggling his screen in Hyunjin’s direction. “Whatever. I’ll get it right next time.” 

Chan gave a greasy wink that looked more like a muscle spasm. Not a natural flirt. 

“Thanks, Minho. We’ve got practice tomorrow in the morning. Hyunjin could use some more conditioning before the season starts.” Chan grabbed his cheap drawstring bag off of the hook near the exit. He left without acknowledging the version of Hyunjin that he’d taken part in creating: the aroused, defeated, exhausted Hyunjin who was too preoccupied with his appearance in the mirror to even notice that Chan had left. Hyunjin _needed_ to jerk off. 

He could’ve cum from just looking at himself, he was sure of it. He would have gracefully licked his load off of his wrecked reflection. With great joy, actually.

“Hey. Hey, Jinnie. Let’s get in the shower. We need to clean you up.” 

_We_. The two of them as a collective. A cure-all for his aching ego. 

Minho corralled Hyunjin into the musty communal shower and quietly grabbed shampoo and soap from his duffel on the benches. “My baby,” Minho watched Hyunjin strip, the cum in his hair glimmering wetly under the fluorescent lights. “How do you still look so beautiful? I love you.” 

“I know,” Hyunjin reassured, “I know you do.” There was his familiar undercurrent of conceit. He’d finally monopolized his step brother's attention. 

Minho steered him to the shower. Hyunjin’s hands were immediately occupied, bitterly combed through his hair, focusing on the chunky spots where it had been gummed up with cum. Minho reached down to grip Hyunjin’s full balls and massage them thoughtfully. Hyunjin felt as though he could dissolve from the sensation of Minho’s faint fingers. He’d slip down the shower drain. 

Minho wasn’t Chan. Minho wasn’t a pain that he had to endure. 

Hyunjin allowed his posture to soften, a willow tree pummeled by wind. Minho’s fingers wandered. He rubbed his thumb against Hyunjin’s hole before dragging it back up to his brother’s cock.

“Well, _Chan_ likes you now,” Minho whispered into the nape of Hyunjin’s neck. He jerked Hyunjin off quickly, not like it was a chore, like it was an itch he had to scratch, like it was something he needed. They both needed it. “But I liked you first.” Minho added it as an afterthought, but it didn’t feel like that to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin’s cum spurted onto the wet floor. His silky moan was twice as loud within the shower. Hyunjin’s whines thickened when they ricocheted off of the tiled walls and he briefly imagined that there were five of him, ten of him. Twenty hands roaming his and Minho’s bodies. 

His stepbrother walked out from the warm steam to grab their towels from the benches.

Hyunjin stood under the stream of water until his fingers pruned. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated! 
> 
> feel free to contact me elsewhere:  
> ⚜ [twitter](https://twitter.com/seungshibari)  
> ⚜ [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/seungshibari)


End file.
